Her eyes rose to the nervously pacing McNeely and stayed focused on him intently, he would be the first to know. The Sergeant prudently kept his distance from everybody, not wanting anyone to overhear any communications he might receive. However, she studied his body language carefully for any clue that he might unconsciously reveal.
A little over a quarter of an hour after Malory and her party had left, she caught the rapid motion of McNeely bringing his radio up, speaking into it tersely. She tensed as the man walked over to address everybody.
“Hanson got his door sealed and is on his way back,” he reported. “Let’s get ready in case he arrives in a hurry.”
The men began to assemble into a large ‘U’ in front of the door and Clovis got up to join them, leaving to her to maintain her vigil alone. The minutes passed in a tense and impatient silence, one melting slowly into the other. Finally, the radio in McNeely’s hand barked urgently.
“I’m in the hall,” Hanson muttered uneasily. “It’s clear, let me in.”
“Open the door,” McNeely ordered and presently Hanson ran into the room, the door closing behind him immediately.
Hanson blew out a breath that lasted twenty seconds as the door was sealed behind him, his shoulders slumping dramatically in relief.
“Well done, Sergeant,” McNeely said, clapping him fatherly on the shoulder. “Any trouble?”
He shook his head to the negative. “Any word from the Commander or Alvarez?”
“Not yet,” McNeely said. “But they had further to go than you,” he added and retreated to his private corner again.
Corky looked at the young Sergeant and scolded herself for wishing that it was Malory who had returned instead of him. Her worry was giving her a powerful headache and she lapsed back into her thoughts, eyes again straying to McNeely and taking up residence.
Another ten minutes of oppressive silence and McNeely paused his nervous pacing to raise his radio, crossing the room hurriedly.
“Alvarez on his way back,” he said. “His door was already sealed and he’s got company.”
The men scrambled to their former positions, rifles shouldered and pointed steadily at the doorway.
Sooner than expected, McNeely’s radio crackled. “I’ve got distance, ETA less than a minute,” Alvarez reported breathlessly.
McNeely waited almost thirty seconds. “Open the door,” he ordered.
Within the span of thee heartbeats, Alvarez raced into the room. “It’s right behind me,” he said edgily and the door was spirited closed.
All eyes scanned the anteroom anxiously and the sound of plodding steps gradually became audible, eventually revealing the figure that once was Jones.
He entered slowly on an almost ruined leg and missing a good portion of his face. White teeth were visible through chunks of flesh that had been savagely torn away and the wounds moved with a life of their own as worms quivered ecstatically in the attempt to find undamaged tissue.
Corky noted this with unseeing eyes, suddenly rising to her feet. “We need to kill it,” she said loudly. “Malory can’t get back in if its standing there.”
McNeely stared at her in understanding and then turned eyes in Jones’s direction as if summing the creature up. “Right, looks like he’s been chewed on. Back away from the door and form up in the corners,” he ordered and the men scrambled. “His right leg is barely there, everyone on that first. When he drops, burn him.”
He turned to verify everyone was in place. “I’ll open the door, give me a second to get clear,” he added, moving forward.
His finger had depressed the first key when the unmistakable sounds of a shotgun being fired could be heard in the distance and he froze. Corky’s hands came up to cover her mouth in comprehension and the room went deathly silent. A few unbearable seconds later, the long and steady burst of an automatic rifle echoed off the walls.
“Oh, God,” Corky whined in horror.
Another quick abbreviated burst and silence reigned again, broken quickly with another long automatic salvo. All ears listened expectantly, waiting for anything that might provide more information but the silence weighed heavily and showed no sign of letting up.
“Love… craft,” Jones gurgled, his voice receiving everyone’s attention. “Love…craft is… dead,” he finished and turned to lumber back into the hall.
Corky’s resolve floundered at the words and her face altered from horror to despair. Her sob was startlingly loud within the confines of the room but no one could turn to look at her. As the sob was followed by another, Clovis put his weapon down and walked over to envelope her in an encompassing embrace.
The men moved away from them respectfully and McNeely crossed the room to sit down angrily in a chair, spinning in his seat to face the wall.
“McNeely,” Malory’s voice crackled through the radio.
“Fuck me!” McNeely exclaimed in surprise, bolting to his feet. The radio moving from his belt to his mouth in a blur. “Go ahead.”
Corky’s head rose sharply to peer out from behind one of Clovis’ arms, hope shining in her eyes.
“The door is sealed,” she reported.
“Understood. Your status?” he asked apprehensively.
No answer was forthcoming. “Commander?” he asked impatiently.
Corky snatched the radio from her belt. “Malory?” she inquired desperately.
“Commander?” McNeely repeated and did so several times, his frustration growing with every unanswered call. Finally, he threw his arms into the air and made as if to throw his radio against the wall, barely restraining himself at the last second.
“I want a gun,” Corky stated quietly in the silence that followed.
McNeely took a deep breath and turned to face her. “Why?”
“Because she’s alive and we’re going to find her,” Corky said solemnly.
“Fuckin’A,” Alvarez piped up in agreement.
McNeely nodded. “How many are we up against?”
“I figure six,” Hanson said. “We found what was left of Isaaks in the tunnel. We know of Coy and Jones for certain. Garret is still missing as is Percy and we lost Gallagher and Dobson yesterday.”
“Six?” Watkins said in distress. “We almost lost our ass to just three yesterday.”
“We have a lot more guns now,” Reynolds said quietly. “And the complex is secure, whatever is out there is trapped in here. Just like us.”
“We can’t leave her out there,” Corky said determinedly. “We won’t leave her out there.”
“We’re not going to,” McNeely said. “However, we’ll need a group to stay behind. All of us walking around out there makes too big a target, as we found out yesterday.”
“Who stays behind?” Watkins asked eagerly and received several derisive looks in his direction.
“Well, I guess you do,” Alvarez said with thinly veiled contempt.
“Knock it off,” McNeely said sternly. “Ring, Hanson, Watkins, and Rivers get to keep the home fires burning. The rest form up.”
“I’m going,” Corky stated steadfastly. “She may need help.”
“Doctor,” McNeely said softly. “If we find her and she’s injured, you can’t treat her out there. We’ll get her back here on the double.”
“I want to go,” Corky said firmly.
McNeely sighed. “You’re staying here because if she were present, she would never allow it,” he said quietly. “And I won’t either. You would be a liability.”
“I’m going,” she said with narrowing eyes. “And you can’t stop me,” she added defiantly.
McNeely raised an eyebrow. “Oh, yes I can,” he rumbled dangerously. “Although I’d rather not. Please, don’t make me.”
“I will not stay here,” she said boldly. “And we don’t have the time to be talking about it.”
McNeely eyed her carefully. “You’re right, we don’t have the time,” he agreed suspiciously and turned to whisper in Reynolds’s ear.
The Chief
turned to leave the room, reappearing a minute later carrying several long strands of network cable which he handed to several of the soldiers.
“Do you wish to reconsider, Dr. Rivers?” McNeely asked mildly.
Corky bared her teeth.
With a nod from McNeely, the men began to slowly advance on the little doctor.
———
Ten minutes later, McNeely sealed the lab door and joined the rest of the men in the hallway, ruefully dabbing at the scratches on one cheek with a finger.
“Jesus,” he whispered. “She fought like a fuckin’ Comanche,” he added, getting several nervous chuckles of agreement. “Alright, DeSoto and Daly you’re on point with me. Chief, Terrel, and Butler, bring up the rear. Alvarez you got tunnel duty. Use your radio. The rest of you form up between us single file.”
“Right,” Alvarez agreed, moving forward quietly and dropping through the hole in the floor. “Clear,” he added a moment later through McNeely’s radio.
McNeely nodded. “Remember boys, head and legs. Anything else is a waste of time.”
———
Malory considered her alternatives, not particularly fond of any of them. She cursed herself for losing her radio, knowing that if she had retained it, she could at the very least, let everyone know that she okay. She considered using the intercom but to do so would require bringing the complex out of lockdown, an action that wasn’t option as it would release the seal on the all the doors. The worry over her own situation was only slightly less than her concern for those still among the living; a diminutive brunette principal among them.
She assumed herself to be the only one in immediate dire circumstances as she had overheard no shots being fired, either before or after her own. She felt sure she would have heard them if any had occurred. Being underground almost guaranteed the resonance and echo of gunfire to travel undiminished from one end of the complex to the other and she considered the lack of such noise a good sign. Unfortunately, if she wanted to look for bad signs, she had to look no further than her own body.
Her left shoulder was definitely dislocated and any further thought beyond that complication was determinedly silenced. The mere idea of undergoing a repeat of the surgery and therapy she had endured upon infliction of her past injury, made her want to cry. Her ribs were now definitely broken for when she moved, she could feel the ends grinding together and she could only hope that she wasn’t bleeding internally. Breathing in through her nose was an exercise in stinging pain and even the thought of a gentle breeze wafting over it resulted in throbs of misery. But the biggest kick to the head, the one that really pissed her off, was the telltale cramps that alerted her to the early arrival of her period.
It was just too much.
Angry blue eyes raised to find Garret still staring at her through the window as if she were a rack of lamb and a plan began to form. The creatures were smart but they didn’t know as much as Coy had led her to believe.
Intending to prove it, she rose stiffly to her feet and spent a few minutes foraging through the desks and cabinets, eventually accumulating all the necessities to implement the first stage of her plan.
Scotch tape and paper in hand, she approached the door and began to cover the porthole, slowly obscuring her activities from the unnerving eyes on the other side. The results of her labor were not appreciated and the thud of fists pounding against the door became loudly audible.
“Don’t worry,” she mumbled. “I’ll be getting back to ya.”
———
“Untie me,” Corky growled from her position on the floor.
Hanson rubbed his watering eye, still stinging from its collision with the toe of the doctor’s errant boot. The woman had put up a furious fight, kicking and screaming wildly. More than one of his colleagues had suffered an impact from her madly flailing hands and feet before they finally managed to subdue her.
“I said, untie me,” Corky fumed, wiggling violently on the floor.
Hanson shot a look at the Lieutenant and almost laughed, knowing that if the situation wasn’t so serious, he would have. Ring was seated with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, looking as if he might vomit or cry, perhaps both. The man had taken a vicious blow to the groin at the onset and was still suffering from the repercussions.
“Untie me, goddamn it!” Corky yelled.
He rubbed his eye again. “Promise to behave if I free you?” he asked gruffly.
“I promise to kick your ass,” she hissed angrily.
Watkins chuckled from across the room and he tried to ignore him. “Then I’m afraid we’ll have to wait until McNeely gets back,” he said mildly.
Corky went completely still and growled her frustration. “Okay, I promise,” she ground out reluctantly.
“You sure now?” he baited.
“I said I fuckin’ promise,” she practically screamed.
“That language isn’t very ladylike,” he teased.
Corky craned her neck around to glare murder in his direction.
Ring finally emerged from his exile of affliction and chuckled. “Cut her some slack, Sergeant.”
“Oh, alright,” he relented easily, moving forward and drawing his knife.
Corky fought the urge to charge the man as she regained her feet and threw the cables still dangling from her wrists to the floor in irritation. She straightened her clothes with agitated hands and narrowed her eyes at the smirking Sergeant.
He acted quickly and extended a finger in reminder. “You promised.”
Her lips tightened into a thin, tense line and she reached for the only weapon she could think of. “When the Commander gets back,” she said threateningly. “I’m telling on you,” she added childishly.
Her comment only succeeded in generating a chuckle from all three men.
Corky huffed and stomped off through the nearest door.
———
“Alvarez, we’re halting,” McNeely said into his radio and signaled a stop to those behind him.
“Understood.”
McNeely wiped his forehead with his sleeve “Chief,” he called out with a wave.
Reynolds came forward and knelt next to him on one knee.
“We’ve cleared half the complex and seen no sign, they’ve got to be close,” McNeely said quietly.
“Yeah, I figured we’d have run into at least one by now,” Reynolds replied, searching the hall in front and behind with a cautious gaze, his eye suddenly freezing on the ceiling behind them.
“Doug,” he whispered and pointed to the roof.
McNeely followed the finger to a ceiling tile that was slightly ajar and directly above Butler and Terrel. “Jesus,” he whispered, standing rapidly to call out to the men. “Butler, Terrel above…”
His warning came a second too late as the roof abruptly rained down on them and Gallagher fell from above, landing on his feet with an unnatural grace. Terrel rolled away as fast as the flame unit strapped to his back would allow, bringing his weapon up but hesitating to fire for fear of enveloping Butler and a group of civilians in flame.
Butler was not as fortunate, Gallagher landed directly behind him and he screamed as his arm was wrenched out of the socket and a spray of blood jutted from the fractured bone protruding through his bicep.
The men closest scrambled to get out of the way and Butler’s scream morphed into a warbling gurgle as Gallagher’s teeth seized his esophagus and tore through his throat. In his convulsions, Butler’s finger clamped down on the trigger to his rifle and he sprayed gunfire wildly down the hall, several rounds catching Terrel in the chest and knocking him onto his back.
Gallagher threw the dying Butler aside like a rag doll and raced headlong into the men fleeing for safety.
“Behind me, now!” McNeely screamed, watching in horror as Dr. Tanaka’s head was slammed into the wall with an audible crack.
“Two behind us,” Reynolds yelled.
McNeely yanked his head around to see Jones and Dobson c
asually advancing on them from a distance, his attention returned forward at Tomlinson’s scream and he turned in time see the man’s jaw completely torn away from his skull. His hand flashed to his radio. “Alvarez fall back to the lab, we’re overrun,” he yelled and stood to level his rifle. “Drop that fucker and run for the lab!” he screamed and let loose with a long automatic burst that humanely tore through the dying Dr. Garcia and plunged unnoticed into Gallagher’s body.
The men followed his example and the now dead Garcia was reduced to tatters in a hail of gunfire. Clovis leveled his shotgun and emptied it at Gallagher’s knees and he fell to the floor only to be surrounded by half a dozen men who vengefully emptied their weapons into the creature, blowing it apart by inches.
Reynolds darted past the conflict and slid to his knees next to the unmoving Terrel, cursing when dead eyes stared unseeing into his own.
“Move!” McNeely screamed, indiscriminately shoving the remaining men back the way they had come. “Run for the lab!”
The men took off at a dead run, all with the exception of DeSoto who calmly reloaded his rifle and took the time to empty it again into the quivering pulp that Gallagher had been reduced to.
“DeSoto, with me now!” Reynolds yelled and the young man turned to spare a last look at Butler’s corpse before running to join the fleeing men.
McNeely again reached for his radio as they pounded down the hall. “Ring, we’re coming back on the double, get on the door!” he yelled and a minute later he was caught up in the swell of bodies struggling to get inside into safety.
The Chief and DeSoto were the last to enter and Ring pushed the door closed with the assistance of several panicked hands.
“Wait! Is Alvarez here?” McNeely yelled.
“I’m here, seal the fucking door!” Alvarez said loudly and Ring punched the code into the door quickly.
Icehole Page 21
